by Zhou HaoHui
Zou was Han’s closest friend, as well as his partner. They had both entered the provincial academy the same year. Their outstanding talents and police work caused their fellow officers to dub the pair “the Gemini.” Around the same time, internal politics and promotions had left the position of department captain vacant. Everyone was sure that the next captain would be one of the two Gemini.
The rivalry that inevitably developed between them was an expression of their healthy rapport. Years of working together on the force had transformed their relationship into one of mutual reliance and trust. They were a rare match.
After stumbling out of the Jade Garden, the officers wandered through the fluorescent-lit streets of Chengdu, reliving the highlights of their latest case while their heads slowly cleared. The air was drenched with the greasy tang of frying meat and oil from the late-night stalls that dotted the sidewalks. On a whim, Han suggested that they purchase a last beer before they went their separate ways. Let’s not end the night just yet, he said.
Zou spotted a convenience store on the other side of the road. As they approached, they heard a commotion coming from inside. Even in his inebriated state, Han at once recognized the two men threatening the cashier. They were both small-time criminals with a reputation among the local police: Peng Guangfu and Zhou Ming.
Neither Han nor Zou Xu felt this would be anything other than a piece of cake for two top officers like themselves.
Once Peng and Zhou Ming spotted the pair of uniformed men crossing the street, they followed their instincts. They fled the store.
Han and Zou followed in close pursuit. The criminals ran from the brightly lit shops and stalls of Fuxing Road and soon were charging into the pitch-dark grounds of nearby Mount Twin Deer Park. The officers spotted their quarry running toward the park’s rock garden.
The massive stone structures forming dark, twisting corridors were famous across the entire province. At night, the passages were nothing short of labyrinthine. The officers’ respective training did not fail them in their hunt. It took them only moments to ascertain the general layout of the area, and decide to split up and outflank the criminals from opposite sides.
Since Han and Zou Xu quickly blocked both exits, the thieves were essentially trapped.
Han, humming with adrenaline and alcohol, was the first to spot the two knife-wielding criminals hiding in a corner. He drew his gun from his holster and shouted for them to come out and surrender. Peng immediately tossed his knife onto the ground. Zhou Ming did the same.
What they did next took Han completely by surprise. Both thieves drew guns.
On any other day, the outcome of a firefight between two of the province’s best officers and a pair of common thugs would have been a foregone conclusion, but the alcohol had slowed Han’s reflexes. A crack came from Zhou Ming’s sidearm and Han felt a bullet strike his left leg. His partner tried to take cover behind a rock while attempting to locate the source of the shooter, but he was just as sluggish. It was chaos.
Before the sounds of gunfire faded, Han had shot Zhou Ming dead and Peng had run off into the distance. Zou Xu lay bleeding to death.
Han could never purge that night from his memory. In that moment he had understood the meaning of total defeat.
Three months later, Han was appointed captain of the Chengdu police. Thanks to the official account of the incident at Mount Twin Deer Park, most people assumed that the night simply marked another highlight in his stellar career. Han, however, knew otherwise.
For Han to break free of the guilt he felt once and for all, he needed to apprehend Peng Guangfu. He had long searched for traces of the escaped criminal, and with mad tenacity. Within months after his appointment, this new police captain had forced countless informants to mobilize their eyes and ears to search for Peng’s whereabouts. This not only threatened the informants’ livelihoods; it limited the resources that the police could allocate to other investigations.
Han’s personal manhunt finally came to an end when his superiors stepped in and ordered him to put an end to the wild search. He had no choice but to follow orders. All the while, feelings of pain and hatred remained buried deep within his heart, growing stronger with each passing day.
* * *
Han knew why Eumenides had left Peng Guangfu alive. He burned with rage—but also with hope. As long as they did not fail tonight, he would be able to avenge Zou Xu.
The captain paced around the conference room table. He could not bear waiting, and it seemed like he had already been waiting for days. He was oblivious to the other team members. Liu Song and Yin were both napping on foldout cots, while Xiong was sitting at the table, his eyes fixed on the receiver.
Han’s nerves had been wound tighter than steel cable ever since the team had seen the video. While the others had used their time to rest and conserve strength, he had remained on full alert.
The captain’s red eyes and faraway stare were making Xiong anxious. Although he hesitated saying so, the SPU captain could no longer keep his thoughts to himself: “You might be better off sitting this one out, Captain. Eumenides is deliberately targeting you. He’s counting on you to act with your heart, not your head.”
“You expect me to back out now? Absolutely not!” Han exclaimed through clenched teeth. “I have no intention of admitting defeat.”
Xiong didn’t know what to say. The captain was unrelenting.
“I haven’t lost sight of my priorities, Xiong. Yes, Peng needs to die—but not at the hand of Eumenides! The law will give him the punishment he deserves. As officers of the law, it’s our duty to uphold justice and apprehend him alive. If we let Eumenides kill him, we’ll be allowing Peng to evade his just legal punishment. I simply cannot allow that to happen!”
“And neither can I!” Xiong exclaimed, slamming his fist against the table. “We’ll find Peng Guangfu. The bastard won’t even leave my sight until I bring him back personally to receive his legal sentence.”
The device on Han’s desk began beeping. Xiong and Han looked at each other, their expressions all but identical.
“Liu! Yin! Time to move out!” Han shouted.
The two younger officers sprang out of their cots.
* * *
It was almost 11:00 p.m. With only an hour until Eumenides’s midnight deadline, the four-man squad set off to rescue Peng Guangfu.
Liu Song took the wheel, while the three other men monitored the signal detector. Using the device, they discovered, required almost no technological skill. Concentric circles had appeared on the monitor as soon as it was activated. The circles formed a digital map of their surroundings; the distance between two adjacent circles indicated an actual distance of about five kilometers. A solid circle indicating the device’s current position remained fixed at the center of the screen. Four lines radiated from it, one toward each compass point. The transmitter’s signal manifested itself as a flashing red blip on the monitor, and its coordinates appeared in a corner of the screen. To find Peng, they simply needed to follow the blip.
The initial signal indicated that their objective was located twenty-three degrees east-northeast, about fifty kilometers away from their current position. The signal originated in nearby Tailin County.
Forty minutes later, the team reached a village called Anfeng. The red blip on the device’s display was nearly touching the center point.
Their surroundings had grown rougher and rockier over the past thirty minutes, and the harsh jolting beneath the SUV’s floorboards confirmed that they were now driving over a dirt road. Anfeng was in mining country, and the terrain ahead would only grow more remote and treacherous. Liu Song made two passes over the darkly lit pavement before finding the narrow dirt road that led north. As they set off down the path, two mountain peaks pierced the veil of night and blocked the moon’s glow. With the exception of the sliver of space illuminated by the SUV�
�s police headlights, their surroundings appeared pitch black. The mountain road finally dwindled to an end.
The red dot indicated that they had arrived.
Midnight crept closer.
The moon had come out again. Off to the right, they could just make out a cave tucked into the foot of a mountain. The cave was level and clearly manmade. Among the shadows, they saw a mess of dilapidated equipment and machinery scattered in the mouth of the cave.
“We made our deadline,” Han said.
None of the men was eager to step outside.
“It must be an abandoned mining tunnel,” Yin said in a hushed voice.
The others murmured their support of his hypothesis. This mountain range was rich in coal, Xiong explained. Some years ago, a succession of hopeful prospectors had dug a series of illegal mining tunnels throughout Tailin County. The local government eventually cracked down, and the small mining operations were forced to shut down. The mountains were littered with abandoned tunnels.
The mine entrance bore a strong similarity to the gruesome videos they had watched earlier that day. The more they looked, the more they were certain they had arrived.
One by one, the team members turned to Han. Rather than give the order to move, he continued to gaze at the cavern. The moonlight gave everyone a clear view of the cave entrance. A man was standing there. His clothes and physical appearance were the same as in the video—Peng Guangfu was alive.
He twisted uncomfortably, but it was clear that his range of movement was severely limited. Eumenides has bound him, Han thought.
Xiong checked his watch. Just twenty-eight minutes shy of October 25. “Let’s scout the place out first. For all we know, Eumenides could be right inside, waiting for us with a trap,” he urged Han.
Han hissed through gritted teeth. His gut told him that if Eumenides was planning an ambush, he was already two steps ahead of their team.
“We can’t afford to waste any time,” he said, keeping his voice low. “Odds are that Eumenides already knows we’re here. Let’s get moving, but stay close. Unholster your weapons.” Nodding firmly, Han signaled to his three teammates. He kept his voice low. “Let’s move.”
Liu Song pulled the key from the ignition. The four men exited the vehicle.
“Funny,” Yin said after a minute. “My eyes are adjusting to the darkness really well.”
Xiong snorted. “That’s natural light, kid. Chengdu is miles from here, which means there’s a lot less light pollution.”
The SPU captain pointed up at the night sky. The autumn moon loomed high above them.
Liu had parked the SUV on the top of an incline. They advanced in a tight formation with their weapons out, each officer positioned so that the group had a collective 360-degree view of the mountainous terrain around them.
The mountain path beneath their feet vanished between two mounds. This marked the end of the path and the beginning of a rolling stretch of hills. Presumably, this area had originally been unpopulated, and the mining tunnel was the only reason for the road’s existence. Nature appeared to have reclaimed the area since the tunnel was abandoned, erasing all but the slightest traces of human activity.
Han scanned his surroundings. He saw flickering shadows and haphazard patches of desolate shrubs and trees, and heard the wind whistling through the hills.
Treacherous terrain. Eumenides had chosen it for a reason.
Han swept his flashlight over the nearby trees and rocks, squinting as he tried to pick out anything moving in the shadows. The others did the same. He gave a signal, and they approached the mining tunnel in a flanking formation, with Xiong bringing up the rear.
The four men reached the entrance without incident. As they swept their flashlights over the area, they confirmed that the tunnel’s opening was clear, with the exception of Peng Guangfu.
Xiong and Liu stood back-to-back with their semiautomatic pistols drawn, Xiong aiming his flashlight toward the SUV, and Liu aiming his into the tunnel’s depths. As long as they maintained watch, Han whispered to Yin, there would be little chance of an ambush at the mouth of the tunnel. As the two SPU officers stood guard, Han and Yin approached the bound man.
Their flashlights lit up Peng’s sunken eyes and gaunt, haggard features. He appeared to be in his twenties. His hair was disheveled and his beard, Han quickly realized, was soaked in blood.
Peng gaped at the two approaching officers. A whimper escaped his open mouth. His hands were tied together, and his right wrist was handcuffed to a scaffold built into the tunnel wall, making it impossible for him to move.
Yin shone his flashlight at Peng’s mouth. The angry stump of his severed tongue quivered helplessly as he mewled. Neither officer could make out a single syllable of the gibberish he bellowed out.
Yin gritted his teeth as he thought back to the blade that Eumenides had wielded in the recording. They had Peng now, and that was all that mattered. Even without a tongue, there had to be other means of extracting the information they needed from the man.
Han’s gaze was intense enough to bore holes through Peng’s flesh. After all this time, he was finally face-to-face with the man who had changed the course of his life. He would have given anything for the chance to unleash all his hatred and rage upon Peng. He needed to stay in control.
Han turned to Liu. “Take a look at those handcuffs. See if there’s a way we can open them.” He paused, and he held his hand up. “Hold on a second, Liu. Xiong, I want you to check those cuffs first. See if they’re linked to a bomb. We don’t want to get cocky.”
As Xiong inspected the handcuffs, Han stepped closer to Peng. The criminal had stirred at the sound of his voice. As Peng squinted at Han, he could see the recognition in Peng’s eyes.
Ten years ago. A gloomy night. The firefight.
Peng’s expression changed from hope to astonishment, and then to terror. He opened his mouth and his quivering tongue could only form unintelligible sounds.
Han stepped forward slowly. He reached out and seized Peng by the hair, forcing the man to look up.
“You recognize me, don’t you?” Han seethed. “It’s time for you to pay for your crimes.”
Peng’s cries were hurried, as though he was begging Han for mercy.
Xiong stood up and looked Han square in the eye. “There’s no bomb, but there’s something strange about these cuffs. There’s no keyhole!”
“Liu, take a look,” Han said.
Liu squatted and inspected the restraints. Several seconds later, the team had their answer.
“Captain, these are electric handcuffs! You can’t open them with a key. We have to find the switch controlling them.”
Han looked down. The cuffs were unusually bulky, like a steel athletic brace. The scaffold they were attached to was intricate in design and riveted to the wall of the tunnel. Dismantling it was out of the question.
If the group was going to leave this tunnel with Peng, they needed to unlock the handcuffs.
“You mean a remote?” asked Liu.
Xiong realized that Liu’s skills wouldn’t be useful at all in the case of electric cuffs.
“No, this lock is wired. The switch should be at the other end of the wire.”
Liu used his flashlight to search for the wire. It was affixed to the scaffolding, where it stretched along the wall until veering off sharply at a bend in the tunnel ten meters ahead. To follow the wire beyond that point, they would need to advance into the tunnel.
“I’ll go have a look,” Liu said to Han, pointing toward the bend. The squad was anticipating combat at this stage in the operation. Any further actions required the approval of the superior officer.
“No one goes solo,” Han said. “Xiong, you go with Liu. Yin and I will stay here and keep an eye on things.”
“No,” Xiong said. “We’re doing this as we agree
d before. Once we’ve located our target, his safety is top priority. You said we need to make sure Eumenides doesn’t get to Peng. How do we know he isn’t hiding somewhere inside this cave? Or right outside the entrance? We have to stay on top of Peng, no matter what happens!”
Han agreed reluctantly. He understood the reason for Xiong’s adamant attitude. It wasn’t just his desire to carry out his mission. It was shame. Shame for his abject failure to protect Ye Shaohong.
“Yin, you go with Liu,” Han said, amending his last order. “Be careful. Radios on, and stay in contact.”
“Understood,” Yin said.
Covering each other, Yin and Liu followed the electric wire into the depths of the tunnel. In moments, they had vanished from Han’s sight.
The SPU captain swept his flashlight back and forth in order to monitor a wider area. Meanwhile, Han drew out his handcuffs. He locked one end around Peng’s wrist, next to the electronic cuffs, and closed the other around the scaffold. If Yin or Liu found the switch for his handcuffs, he didn’t want Peng to make any unexpected moves.
Yin and Liu finally rounded the bend, only to find that the wire continued to stretch deeper within.
“How far do these tunnels go?” Yin whispered.
“Probably miles. If someone wandered in here without any equipment, I’d bet there’s a good chance they’d starve to death,” Liu answered with a grimace.
They cautiously felt their way ahead, advancing another hundred feet. The tunnel widened to the size of an apartment hallway. They froze.
“Oh, no,” Yin whispered in horror.
Bodies dangled from the tunnel’s low ceiling. They were arranged in a circle, at intervals of a few feet. Yin gripped his flashlight until he thought the casing would snap. Blackened trails of blood ran along the length of each motionless body like macabre tattoos, thickest at the gaping wounds on their necks.